


A Very Hansen Christmas

by WeekendWriter



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Chuck Lives, Hansen Family Feels, Hong Kong Shatterdome, M/M, Oblivious Raleigh, Post-Operation Pitfall (Pacific Rim), Shatterdome Family, Shatterdome Shenanigans, and moderately redeemed, scott hansen is back, the hansens are pottymouths but what do we expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:58:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8975041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeekendWriter/pseuds/WeekendWriter
Summary: If there's one thing Chuck isn't, it's contrary. He's not.And his family absolutely has something else to say about that.
When Chuck takes to ignoring his newfound blonde friend from medical, Herc enlists Mako's scheming abilities to help get them back together. It takes a bit of mistletoe, some slight of engineering-hand, and one normally-missing Scott Hansen.
Needless to say, it'll take a Christmas Miracle.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Raine_Wynd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raine_Wynd/gifts).



> I was so excited to be able to write this one since I've never included Scott in any of my writing before. I wanted to mash both prompt requests together since it is the holiday season and everybody should get everything they want during the holidays, so that's how this work morphed from like a 1k word ficlet into over 6k words. Much thanks and love to my [beta](http://yumimages.tumblr.com/) for the quick edits. 
> 
> Hope this is everything you wanted, Raine!

The door to his room rattled slightly, and in walked the last person Chuck ever expected.

Scott Fucking Hansen. 

The large Australian entered the room like he belonged there; like someone had fucking paged him; like he hasn’t missed out on the last several years of his life; and dammit, Chuck couldn’t help the twinge of hope in his chest. He hadn’t seen his uncle in far too long, and after being cooped up in the med bay it was the best surprise he’d gotten all week.

Well, after finding out that he’s going to be able to keep his leg, that is. 

“Scott?” Herc sounded dumbfounded. Scott immediately zeroed in on him and grabbed his older brother in one hell of a headlock.

“You sound surprised to see me, old man.” Scott raised his fist to rub it into the elder Hansen’s scalp. 

“I— knock it off, kid—I didn’t think you were being serious.” Herc freed himself from his brother’s death grip and gave him a once-over. “You look a bit less like shit than last time, I guess.”

Scott grunted, although whether it was in response to the pseudo-complement or the jibe at seriousness, Chuck couldn’t tell. “Told you I’d be here. Like to think my word still means something to some people.”

“Wait.” Both men glanced at Chuck as though they finally remembered that it was _his_ room they were roughhousing in like ankle-biters. “You told him you’d be here? And you didn’t tell me?”

Herc rubbed his jaw. There was no way out of this one. “Yeah. Scott sent me a transmission a couple days ago saying he was coming.”

“A couple…” Chuck did the math. “You’ve known since just after Pitfall!?” 

“Kid, you were in a coma. And like I said,” his father added with a sidelong glance at his uncle, “I didn’t think he’d actually show.”

It was Scott’s turn to sigh. He scratched a large hand through his short hair. “Look, mate—I get it. I deserve that. I wasn’t ever meant for the kind of fame that got thrown our way. I lost sight of what was important, what the focus of what we were doing really was. Which is why I’m here now. I meant what I said; I want to help rebuild.” He clapped a hand to Herc’s shoulder, steadying the older man, before continuing, “Everything you said was right. Just took me a bloody long time to get my head out of my arse to realize it. And you might not believe me now, but you know as well as I do that I learned enough engineering to be of help. Or I can always babysit junior over here while you find some real engineers to get us back on our feet.”

“Oi!”

Herc ignored his son’s outburst and stared back at Scott, taking in the words with caution. “I… yeah, I guess the kid’s old enough that your behavior’s not gonna rub off on him. God knows all we need is another one of you running around, fucking shit up.”

“OI! Right fucking here, in case you old sods forgot!”

Scott smiled back at his brother but broke away long enough to flip Chuck the bird over his shoulder. “Fuck you too, junior. Sorry to say your reign as the ‘Dome’s favorite Hansen’s about to come to a right abrupt ending.”

A snort from Herc. “You really think he’s the favorite?”

“That’s it.” Chuck tossed his hands in the air. “I’m out. Fuck life support. Dying in the hallway sounds more dignified than sitting through this shit.”

“Relax, kiddo.” The intentionally obnoxious kiss Scott placed on his forehead had Chuck scrambling for the other edge of the bed (“fuck off, mate!”). Scott laughed and said, “Uncle Scotty’s back to get you up and running again.”

“Fuck me.”

“That’s just fucking wrong, son.”

 

 

It took two days of hard rest and relaxation before Chuck finally felt up to getting out of bed. Getting thrown around an escape pod that was rocked by the waves of a nuclear explosion would do that. He was nervous about the stiffness that had settled in his leg but he tried to keep the doctor’s words in mind as he lowered himself into the wheelchair. There had been sufficient nerve damage because of the break in his left leg, but with proper rest and physical therapy it would return to close-to-normal function. 

Much as he hated to admit it, Scott had been good company during those two long days. His stories had, fortunately, gotten less and less raunchy as Scott got closer and closer to the current chronological date. There was definitely something different about his uncle, Chuck realized; he was still a bloody arsehole, some things would never change, but he seemed much more level-headed than the hothead he remembered from his childhood.

And now, Scott was getting him up and about for some much-needed fresh air. 

Herc arrived just as Scott was getting ready to wheel him out into the hallway. “The fuck is this, a goddamn jailbreak?”

“Relax, old man.” Scott grinned at his brother. “The two kids are just going for a walk, is all. Figured I’d shake up Charlie’s views by showing him a different white wall.”

The Marshall looked like he wanted to question either Scott’s motives or whether the entire operation was safe but thought better of it. “Alright. You should visit Raleigh down the hall.”

“Fucking wanker,” Chuck muttered as Scott perked up and asked, “Raleigh Becket? That little blonde seppo that piloted Gipsy?”

“The very same,” Herc grunted. “He’s been twiddling his thumbs just as bad as Chuck here. Be nice,” he added, with an accusatory finger-point at Chuck.

Chuck grumbled but let himself get pushed into the hallway. He hadn’t spoken to Raleigh since the hallway incident, really, and he hadn’t had any plans to start. Hero that blew up the Breach or not, Chuck still wasn’t a fan of the way the bloke had walked out on the program. 

A snide voice in the back of his head asked why that was different than what Scott did but he forced the thought out of his mind as Scott rapped his knuckles twice and then opened the door to the other occupied room in the bay.

Blue eyes glanced their way. Raleigh opened his mouth in greeting before he froze. “Fuck, they’re multiplying.”

Scott grinned. “World loves gingers, mate. Can’t keep us down.” He wheeled Chuck in to one side of Raleigh’s bed before he moved to occupy the seat by the window. 

“We all know that’s largely not true.” Raleigh flashed a grin of his own in return. “Gotta say, man, you look a lot better than you did in Manilla.”

“Soul-searching does wonders, mate.” Scott nodded toward Chuck and added, “Brought Chuckles here so you both could stop sulking.”

Chuck glared his uncle’s way. “’m not sulking, you wanker. Not my fault medical is boring as shit.”

“Well considering you’re the only ones in medical after that mission, you two hanging out makes sense.” Scott stood and ruffled Chuck’s hair; the gesture was surprisingly gentle for the abrasive man. “I gotta go sit in on a meeting with Herc. Won’t take long, I promise.”

Chuck grumbled after him and settled further into the wheelchair with crossed arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out Raleigh fiddling with the edges of the hospital blanket. “That doona’s shit, right?”

“What?” The blonde’s eyes widened in confusion.

Another grunt. “The blanket. ‘s all scratchy and thin. Always hated those things. Spent way too much time getting scratched by them over the years.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Raleigh abandoned the fabric in his fingers. “They’re nothing like the quilts we used to have back in Alaska. Those thing’s’d keep you warm no matter what season.”

Chuck paused. “Could get Scott to bring you one of yours, if you want.”

Yet another look of surprise from those blue eyes; Chuck wouldn’t be surprised if his eyebrows disappeared into the blonde mess of his hair. “Yeah, I—that’d be great. Thanks.”

“Yeah? Ace.” So it wasn’t so bad, being nice to the wanker. Hell, if Scott could mend things with Herc, he could at least sit in the same room as his kind-of-nemesis. 

Chuck apparently wasn’t the only one thinking along those lines. 

When Scott returned the next hour, he paused outside the door to give the two kids more time, smiling as he watched the playful competitiveness of the card game in progress.

 

 

Weeks passed and turned into months. Scott settled into the Shatterdome easier than Chuck expected; fortunately, most of the personnel remaining after the war hadn’t been around to witness the Australian’s fall to disgrace. And he kept his word, spending most of his days checking in with Chuck and helping with dinner and physical therapy when Chuck was finally discharged from medical. Herc had thrown himself into the Marshall position with no less enthusiasm than expected, so Chuck appreciated Scott’s presence given his father’s absence. 

Although lately his days had been filled with equal parts Scott and Raleigh. Ever since his uncle rolled him into Raleigh’s room unannounced, Chuck had taken to visiting more days of the week than not. What he said was true; they were the only two miserable sods confined to rest due to their injuries. It made sense that they should spend time together.  
And it was nice to go through physical therapy with someone who was considerably more understanding and sympathetic than the other two Hansen men. 

Raleigh even came by every once in a while for dinner (though less often after Raleigh’s jokes about Shrimp on the Barbie resulted in Scott chasing him from the kitchen with a wooden spoon). The entire thing was horribly domestic, although Chuck found that as the days passed he didn’t mind as terribly as he thought he would. Nights when Herc managed to come home early enough to find the other Hansen men and Raleigh seated at the table were easily becoming Chuck’s favorites. 

After today’s particularly grueling physical therapy session, Chuck dragged his frame immediately back to the suite. The ‘Dome had opened one of the family suites for the Hansens, under Herc’s orders of course, and they now had three separate rooms joined by a living room and a kitchen. Chuck was glad to finally have his own personal space, but grateful that the other two were close enough if he needed them. He had trouble sleeping; Slattern’s powerful tails still knocked the breath from him some nights. 

Scott looked up as the suite’s door clanged shut forcefully. “That bad a day, huh kid?” He took Chuck’s silence for the answer it was and approached the back of the couch as Chuck settled into it with a groan. 

Chuck accepted the ice pack and the hot towel his uncle had waiting for him, hoping his grunt was thanks enough. That’s how they communicated half the time, he was sure. The ice’s cooling relief on his leg was welcome. Some days he worried he was pushing himself too hard, but both his coach and Raleigh had been supportive of his work today, and he trusted the two to tell him when to stop. 

He leaned back to rest his head and closed his eyes. A few minutes passed before Chuck felt something else pressed into his free hand. A plate and, if he wasn’t mistaken, something that smelled like vanilla and butter. 

And passionfruit. 

Goddamn Yoyos.

Chuck popped one in his mouth. It tasted good, and where the hell Scott had gotten honest to God _passionfruit_ he couldn’t imagine, but it also tasted like _home_. “Where in the fuck did you learn how to bake?”

Scott’s shrug could be felt from across the room. “After the PPDC wasn’t footing the food bill I kinda slipped into a really cheap food phase. Ate whatever shitty food I could get for little to no cost. Some of it probably burned a hole through my stomach lining, if I’m being honest. Then one day someone mistook me for a homeless person, because I basically bloody was, and bought me a good warm meal. Hadn’t realized how much I fucking missed real food. And I figured I had nothing else to do, so I bullshitted my way into a cooking job and learned on the fly. Taught myself some other stuff like this when I finally had enough money to do so.”

He chewed carefully, savoring the buttery goodness. Huh. You learn something new every day, Chuck guessed. The Yoyos disappeared quickly, though Chuck made a point to save a few for Herc. His father would have killed him otherwise but a quick glance into the kitchen confirmed that, yes, Scott had made plenty more than what he had offered Chuck. 

It’d been so long that Chuck must have gotten used to Scott’s newer, nicer nature, because he should have realized that his uncle was trying to butter him up for something. Scott put the finishing touches on the last of the cookies and dropped into the chair facing the couch. 

“So. Your boyfriend. Seems like a nice bloke. You gonna give it a real go at that, yeah?”

Chuck glanced up through his warm, post-baked-goods haze and frowned. “The fuck’re you on about?”

The larger Australian shrugged; thank God, the wanker wasn’t wearing an apron, because Chuck didn’t think he’d be able to take him seriously. “You’ve been spending a good amount of time with that blonde seppo lately.”

“Like fucking dating him or something?” Chuck tried, with moderate success, to keep the panic from his voice. 

“Yeah. Unless you kids do something else nowadays. I didn’t think I was out of the game for that long.”

Wincing at the jostling to his leg, Chuck sat up and frowned further; he knew the fold forming between his brows would be telling to his uncle, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. “The fuck would I want to date that seppo for?”

Another shrug, though this time Scott couldn’t keep the humor out of his eyes. “He’s a good-looking guy. Surprisingly tolerant of your cranky ass. Even likes you, for some reason. Fuck if I know why.”

Chuck swallowed; he wished he had something to wash the dryness of the baked goods down. Or the rising panic, as Scott continued, “Could help set you up. Or, ya know, rough him up, if he’s not treating you right.”

Fuck that. Chuck hauled himself to his feet. “Not dating that blonde wanker, and I’m not planning on it. Piss off, you bloody drongo.”

Thankfully the walk to his bedroom was a short one. He had just enough time to swing his door shut and fall into bed before the cramping started. He clutched his leg through the waves, until the muscles finally calmed. 

Not that that calmed his mind. The fuck was Scott on about? Raleigh wasn’t into him. Sure, they’d been spending a lot of time together lately, but that was at Scott’s reminder that they were the only two going through the same experience. Wounded veterans helping each other recuperate, was all. He’d come to admire the bloke and appreciate all he’d been through, after hearing his side of the events after Knifehead and the effort he made to complete Operation Pitfall, even at the cost of his own safety. 

Alright, maybe he did like Raleigh a bit more than he’d let on. It would be hard not to feel something for the bloke, after all they’d been through. 

But the last fucking thing he needed was Scott fucking Hansen, of all people, trying to play matchmaker. For all the good he had been doing since arriving at the Hong Kong Shatterdome, Chuck definitely still didn’t trust the guy’s relationship advice; the few experiences he’d been able to hear about ended terribly enough. Besides, how embarrassing would it be to need to be set up by your uncle?

Everything about this read disaster. Chuck rubbed his face in exhaustion and pushed the thought from his mind. 

 

 

“The fuck did you do?”

“Hm?” Scott glanced up from the stove. Today’s lunch was a warm one, not the usual sandwiches he made up for when Chuck finished his morning PT.

“I’m surprised it took you this long, but.” Herc crossed his arms, the classic Hansen steel written on his features. The Marshall wasn’t playing around today. “Why the fuck did Raleigh come to me today asking why my son is avoiding him?”

“Ah, shit.” Scott abandoned his wooden spoon. The meat mixture was ready to be poured into the pan and set to bake, but Herc wasn’t about to let this go. “Look, I don’t really know, but—”

“Bulldust.”

Damn. Herc only brought out the serious Australian when he was really pissed. “I may have asked Chuck when he was going to get serious with the seppo.”

Herc groaned and rubbed his face in exasperation. “Fucking Christ, you did not.” He leaned against the kitchen counter and pressed his palms together. “Did you suffer a stroke or something? Because I can’t think of any scenario in which you would have forgotten how stubborn my son is.”

“I thought I’d help him get his head out of his arse—”

With a dark chuckle, Herc interjected, “Because you’ve always been good at that yourself, yeah?”

Scott’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Fuck off, better late than never, yeah? I didn’t know the little wanker was gonna get so butthurt over the damn question!”

“Well, now he’s avoiding the bloke.” Herc sighed. “I know you didn’t mean to do any harm. It’s just… I haven’t seen him get on with anybody like this in fuck knows when.”

“Well fuck, mate, we gotta fix this.” Scott ignored the timer that started; he had more important things going on. “How do we fix this?”

Herc grunted thoughtfully. “There’s only one person I know who’s cunning enough to pull something like this off. Come on.”

 

 

She was sitting in the main conference room waiting for them after receiving Herc’s transmission. Black boots propped on the table met his gaze first, followed by her slight frame leaned casually in one of the chairs. Power had been good to her. After the collapse of the Breach, she’d been the only person he even considered assigning as his second-in-command, and Pentecost had been right; she more than rose to the occasion. She dominated it. Her well-rounded background in both the politics surrounding the PPDC and her acute understanding of engineering created a powerful ally to have when taking on the idiots at the UN, Herc found. Like with all the opportunities she was given, she rose to the challenge and kicked arse. Hell, he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t be gunning for his job next.

Not like he’d complain. She’d excel at that, too. 

And the cunning mind that brought all that knowledge together was exactly what he was after today.

“Miss Mori.” 

Mako removed her feet from the conference table and stood to greet the two men. The lounging was unlike her; the bow in greeting was very like her. She was growing and adapting to the attitudes in this arena. “Marshall.”

“We need your help with something.” Herc paused long enough for Scott to nod his grudging agreement. “Because there’s a need for subtlety here, and you know as well as I do that I’m—”

“Subtle as a shit brick through a window.” The corners of her mouth turned up slightly. 

The cursing would have surprised him had Herc not stopped to consider how much time he’d been spending around the petite woman. It was about time she picked up some of the Australian attitude. “Exactly. Basically, Scott fucked up—”

“OI!”

“Does this have to do with Raleigh?” Mako interjected with a cross of her arms. 

“Yeah.” Herc glanced sideways at Scott. “Why?”

“He has spent far too much time with me this week. Not that I would complain,” she added hastily, “but I do know for a fact that he does not find strategic meeting planning very interesting. And that is what I have been doing while he sits in on my work. Something must be bothering him.”

“Yeah genius over here–” “OI!” “—decided that it would be a good idea to ask Chuck how his boyfriend was.”

Oh, she definitely learned that eyeroll from Chuck, Herc decided as the woman’s dark eyes nearly disappeared completely into the back of her head. “Yeah. Exactly. We’ve been watching them dance around each other for months, and now Chuck, the sod, is avoiding Raleigh because good ol’ Scotty here said something. So, we need a way to get them back together without them noticing that we’re prodding. Because God only knows if Chuck finds out, he’ll do his best to be as contrary as possible. Love the little whacker, but the kid never knew when to take a damn shot outside of battle.”

Mako nodded seriously, and Herc was glad for her support. He knew she would do everything she could to try to help them make things right. After all, there was little more important to her than her copilot. 

By the week’s end, Herc was beyond grateful that Mako had been on their side and not the kaiju’s during the war because if it came to that, he was sure they absolutely would have lost. It was scary how much craftiness was contained in such a small-but-deadly human being. 

They were on their third run-through of the plan. Herc brooded over the papers in front of him as he leaned, palms on the table. Mako’s quick description next to him was still half going in one ear and out the other; he just had a hard time imagining one person coming up with something like this.

Scott, meanwhile, had tilted one rolling chair backwards as he lounged and sipped on his second cup of eggnog. 

“You know,” Herc began as he threw his little brother a glare, “You could help, mate.”

Said brother just shrugged and took another generous gulp. “Fucked this right up the first time. I’ll let you two deal with this and pitch in only when I’m absolutely needed, yeah?”

Typical. But not altogether a bad point. 

“Are you sure you’ll be able to swing a change in their physical therapy days like this?”

Mako nodded, even going as far as to cock one eyebrow in a ‘of course, who do you think I am’ type of gesture. “I have been working closely with their trainer to better build the rehabilitation program for pilots, should the need arise for us to start training them again. He will cooperate if I ask.”

“Right.” Herc shook his head; why did he even question her anymore? “And the decorations?”

“LOCCENT is in charge of placing the decorations for the upcoming holiday season,” Mako explained, indicating to a place on the paper where yes, decorations for Christmas were scheduled to start going up today. “I have already handed him a map of the places the two are most likely to run into each other. And into others, as well, ensuring enough of an audience that they cannot ignore them.”

“And if that all fails?” It wouldn’t, Herc guessed, but the military man in him had to ask.

“If that all fails, I have Mr. Choi working on a special electrical side project.”

Scott choked on his last gulp of eggnog. Herc held up both hands and vehemently said, “I don’t want to know. Just tell me what I need to do to make these things happen.”

 

 

The change to his schedule was an unexpected but not unwelcome surprise, Chuck decided. After their last session, the physical therapist announced that mornings were no longer going to work, and switched him to more evening sessions. That worked just fine with him; he found after the first two that working himself to near exhaustion did wonders for his sleep. He awoke more rested than he had in a long time. 

And he no longer had to try as hard to avoid Raleigh.

Not that he was avoiding the wanker. He wasn’t. 

The unwelcome surprise came when Herc started pushing him out of the suite earlier and earlier in the day. Mumbling something about spending time with actual human beings and getting sunlight (in a closed metal dome with no windows, no less), Herc herded him out of his room and into the hallway. And Scott, the mutinous whacker, did nothing to take his side on the matter, only raised his coffee mug in a sad attempt at a salute. 

So today he was wandering the Shatterdome, stretching his bum leg. The muscles no longer screamed in protest, he noticed. Therapy was making headway, he guessed. Chuck headed into the jaeger bay and—

_Oh_.

The entire bay had been decked out in _Christmas decorations_. Garlands strung from the catwalks, those red-leaved flowers placed in every bay, red and green streamers draped across the ways; the whole nine-yards. Chuck gaped at the colorful mess greeting him. Who the fuck had taken the time to do this, and when had it happened? He didn’t think he was sitting (not sulking, fuck off Scott) in his room for this long. 

A low whistle and a, “Shit, man,” sounded next to him. Raleigh had hobbled beside him and was now glancing around the bay with the same amount of amazement in his eyes. Those stupidly blue eyes met his as a slow, contented grin spread across the seppo’s stupidly handsome face. “This is something, huh? I haven’t seen Christmas stuff since… shit, since before the war, really.”

Chuck only nodded mutely. He figured the guy wouldn’t want to talk to him after all the avoidance, but…

A cat-call ringing from across the bay caught his attention. Two of the techs were pointing and laughing their way, drawing the attention of the rest of the crew around them. Chuck frowned; he didn’t think there was anything on his face. And he’d fight any fucker dumb enough to laugh at two crippled jaeger pilots. Damaged leg or not, he could still kick somebody’s arse with his good one. 

The choked chuckle next to him brought his attention back to Raleigh, who was glancing up. Chuck followed his gaze and groaned inwardly. 

Some whacker had put up mistletoe in the jaeger bay doorway.

Raleigh was clearly amused, but the second he took in Chuck’s violently flushed expression, he backed away without a word and headed down the hall. Chuck flipped the bird angrily to the techs. Stupid techs; neither of them would have noticed the stupid plant if it hadn’t been pointed out to them. Not ignoring Raleigh for the brief minute reminded him that he actually fucking missed the blonde seppo. 

_“So. Your boyfriend”_ rang in his ears. A sour look settled on his face, and he headed across the bay toward the other hallway exit.

 

 

“I just don’t get it, Mako.” 

Raleigh was back again, lounging in one of the rolling chairs as she poured over her paperwork. Or pretended to pour over her paperwork; this time, she was honestly listening to her drift partner’s words to gauge how the plan was going so far.

“Guy’s pissed at me, and I’m pretty sure this time I didn’t actually fucking do anything.” Raleigh ruffled his hair in annoyance. It settled in the adorably puppy-like fashion as he continued. “The stupid thing is I thought we were getting along fine for once. I even…”

He trailed off, but Mako knew where he was going with the statement. Could feel it through the ghost drift, even. “Maybe Chuck is just grumpy from his more grueling physical therapy sessions,” she offered.

Raleigh grunted. “I guess. I don’t know. I think the guy even moved his sessions so he wouldn’t have to see me. That’s fine. If he doesn’t want to see me in session, he can just deal with seeing me outside of them more. I’m not giving up on this yet.”

She murmured her agreement; good, neither Raleigh nor Chuck knew why their sessions had been split, and her partner glancing at her with warm gratefulness for listening to his problems told her that she was doing a good job keeping her agenda hidden.

Hmm. Maybe Scott was right. Maybe she should try her hand at one of the local casinos. 

“Anyway, I gotta get going.” Raleigh stood and straightened his shirt. “I promised Tendo I’d help him fix the Christmas decorations this afternoon. Someone keeps tearing down the mistletoe. Can’t for the life of me imagine why.”

Mako managed to keep the smile from forming until Raleigh had left the room.

 

 

Their targets danced progressively closer around the issue all week, until finally Christmas eve approached. 

“This isn’t working, Mako,” Herc grunted. He slid past Scott and reached into the oven to slide the biscuits out before they lost that wonderful golden-brown coating. “They’re still…” He didn’t have words for what his idiot son and his son’s idiot… whatever, were. Twice, even, Chuck had come to him grumbling that it should be considered a fire hazard for someone to place that much mistletoe on the ceiling of the Shatterdome. Herc had wanted to laugh, both at Chuck’s angry expression and at the fact that they’d put so much effort into this plan only to yield no results.

“I underestimated their ability to give in to public pressure,” Mako admitted as she tugged the wine bottle open. A nice, good-quality red; a gift from Hannibal Chau. “It should have been enough for them to have the excuse of mistletoe. Chuck, it seems, is more stubborn against his own happiness than I anticipated.”

Scott grunted as he swung the impressive roast out of the oven and waddled to the table with it. “Girly, you clearly don’t know Chuck at all, then.” He accepted her glass with a small salute before taking a sip. An appreciative noise escaped his lips before he added, “Only way to face a bullheaded wanker like Chuck is to face him head-on.”

“Well, we’ve bloody run out of time for that,” Herc replied. “Not going to have this mistletoe excuse for long, and I think Chuck is onto us. Tendo’s been bitching all week about how much time he’s spent replacing mistletoe instead of doing his job.”

His brother snorted, and Mako grinned herself. She took a small sip from her own glass, savoring the taste. “I think you’ll find that second plan I put into place will do just the trick. Come. You both will want to see this.”

She headed for the suite door. Herc and Scott exchanged a confused glance before following, Scott grabbing the rest of the bottle on his way out. It didn’t take long for Herc to recognize the way to LOCCENT. Mako had mentioned something about this plan being electrical; he should have figured she would have involved LOCCENT and its master, Tendo, in this plan.

Sure enough, the dark-haired electrical genius was busy at work, twisting and adjusting knobs and buttons when they arrived. He waved the hand wrapped in a rosary as the three of them filed into his main screen.

“Gentlemen, m’lady, you’re just in time for the main event.” Tendo grinned and turned one last knob. The screen jolted to life, showing the security camera feed to the bunk hallway. The lens was focused more on the elevator, Herc noticed, and as he watched his son approached the elevator and pressed the call button.

“Slow it here,” Mako suddenly ordered.

Tendo reached for one of the panel’s many buttons. Sure enough, the elevator lagged long enough that by the time the doors accepted the blonde pilot in, Chuck was just rounding the corner. The two made painfully visible eye contact, and Herc held his breath until Chuck finally stepped inside. 

“Showtime, boys and girls.” Tendo grinned widely. The elevator door closed, the tiny room’s camera flittered to life on screen, the elevator started down, and Tendo cranked yet another button. 

The elevator jolted to a sudden stop and went dark.

 

 

“You’ve got to be fucking joking me,” Chuck spoke to the darkness. Because after all the weirdness going on this past week, he was most definitely avoiding Raleigh.

The blonde next to him let out a long-suffering sigh. As if this was more of a burden on him than on Chuck, or something. “The emergency lights will be on soon. I’m sure Tendo’s still in LOCCENT, which means he’ll have this thing up and running in no time.”

Chuck snorted. Mr. Practical strikes again. To make matters worse, the overhead emergency lights flickered to life not a few seconds later. Raleigh’s grin almost sparked another outburst from Chuck, until he glanced up.

“Oh, fuck me in the head.”

To make matters _even more worse _, someone had decorated the _entire_ ceiling of the elevator with mistletoe.__

__“You’ve gotta be— Somebody’s fucking with us,” Chuck blustered. He was mortified, which wasn’t helping the already impressive flush spreading across his face and neck. Stupid fair skin._ _

__Stupid fucking elevator._ _

__Stupid fucking _mistletoe_._ _

__“What do you mean, fucking with us?” Raleigh eyed him warily._ _

__“I mean—have you been fucking blind all week? The mistletoe everywhere we go?”_ _

__The blonde’s face twisted into a fond grin. “It’s Christmas, Chuck. There’s always mistletoe everywhere.”_ _

__“No, I mean like—” Chuck broke off again. The wanker hadn’t noticed. And he wasn’t about to make himself seem even crazier by explaining the crazed theory to the seppo. “Whatever.” He mashed the call button angrily several times, with no response. “Where the hell is everybody?”_ _

__“Chuck.” Raleigh watched the angry display, the grin faltering slightly. “What the hell’s the matter with you?”_ _

__“Nothing.” Even Chuck knew his reply was far too quick and snippy for everything to be fine. And that cursed blush kept spreading. He sighed and kicked angrily at the floor. “Nothing,” he repeated, more calmly this time._ _

__Raleigh snorted. “Right. Your neck agrees with you. Listen, Chuck,” he continued as Chuck opened his mouth to hotly reply, “I don’t know what the hell’s been the matter with you lately, but it’s not just your usual crankiness from physical therapy. Fuck, I mean you even changed your physical therapy time just to avoid me.”_ _

__Chuck’s head reared back up quickly. “No, I fucking didn’t. My session time got changed; I didn’t tell them to do it.”_ _

__The blonde’s eyes narrowed in confusion. “I thought you changed it because you were avoiding me at the sessions to begin with.”_ _

__“I wasn’t—” Chuck sighed. Here it was, he guessed, a shot. Not like they were getting out of this elevator anytime soon. “Scott called you my boyfriend the last week. I hadn’t realized I was spending that much time with you, so I stopped because it felt like too much.”_ _

__Another confused, puppy-like stare from the blonde. “It bothered you that your uncle called me your boyfriend.”_ _

__Chuck winced; he’d have to salvage the situation, if that flat tone was any indication. “It bothered me because I hadn’t thought of it that way. Hadn’t thought of you that way, until he said something. Which kinda pissed me off. Didn’t wanna try for you just because he said something, but…”_ _

__Raleigh nodded slowly. “So all those times under the mistletoe that you got pissed—”_ _

__“It bothered me because I thought there was no chance in hell you were thinking along the same lines. So yeah, every time we were under that stupid goddamn plant I bolted. Whatever.”_ _

__“I—” Raleigh blinked slowly. “Chuck, I had no idea. I thought you were just still ignoring me for some reason. I didn’t even notice the mistletoe half the time.”_ _

__“You didn’t—” Chuck rubbed his face. Goddamn blonde wanker was going to be the death of him. All this agony because the seppo had the goddamn honest-to-God attention span of a golden retriever. “Mate, look—”_ _

__Warm, calloused hands suddenly parted his own. A shift in the elevator and all that tall, lean muscle was pressing into his personal space. Raleigh’s blue eyes searched his, inches from his own face, until the bloke leaned in and pressed his lips to Chuck’s own._ _

___Oh_._ _

__The kiss was short, chaste, but made a point. Raleigh leaned back far enough to say, “You know, you don’t have to prove your family wrong all the time. Occasionally, they can be right.” The cheeky fucker even had the nerve to roll his hips; the contact to his groin was enough to make Chuck hiss in response._ _

__“Fuck, yeah, I guess—” Chuck closed his eyes as Raleigh’s teeth grazed against his neck. Yeah, he guessed, Scott was sort-of right for once—_ _

__Wait. Wait just a goddamn second._ _

__Chuck’s eyes tore open._ _

__His family. The change to his schedule. LOCCENT. The goddamn mistletoe._ _

__

__

__Herc raised his glass and Scott presented Tendo with the bottle, since he had no glass of his own. In front of them, the scene played out; much as they’d hoped, being trapped in the elevator provided a good space for them to finally talk out their issues. And, as Mako had guessed, the obnoxious amount of mistletoe was a good conversation starter. The second the two sods on screen kissed, Herc had raised his glass._ _

__“To Miss Mori,” he announced, with a grin at the woman. “Because I honestly couldn’t have thought up a more effective plan myself, and I’m honestly quite scared at what you’re capable of now.”_ _

__She grinned in reply and drained the rest of her glass as Scott laughed and clapped an extra-large hand to her shoulder in gratitude._ _

__“Never thought I’d see the day when that little bugger finally grew up and learned to talk feelings.” Scott mock-wiped nonexistent tears from his eyes. “I’m a proud uncle today.”_ _

__“Wait, wait—guys.” Tendo was still watching the screen intently. Herc turned back as the LOCCENT chief turned the sound dial up. Chuck’s head was leaning his head against the elevator wall, until suddenly, those sharp eyes opened. It seemed the kid did a few quick mental calculations, then his gaze snapped to the corner, where the camera was streaming from._ _

__“OI!”_ _

__Chuck’s strangled yell was enough to startle the poor blonde seppo to the other side of the elevator. He recovered upon realizing that the redhead was, in fact, not yelling at him but at the corner of the elevator ceiling._ _

__“YOU FUCKING WANKERS! WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE, I SWEAR TO FUCK—”_ _

__Herc reached around Tendo and switched the screen off. He swirled the remainder of his wine in the glass. “Roast’s probably getting cold. We should… yeah?”_ _

__A chorus of “yeah” met his question. The four of them peeled out of LOCCENT so fast it left Tendo’s chair spinning._ _

__Scott’s laughter filled the hall the entire way back._ _


End file.
